Gaotunheim
by Alex K 47
Summary: Welcome to Gaotunheim, the future. You will spend your entire life on this game, unless you die 3 times. Now, here's the kicker: Know one's allowed to know it's a game.
1. Tenure, Twoyear

Ch

Prologue

"Selling Adamant Armor!"

"Free starter packs! Free starter packs!"

"Does anyone want a girlfriend?"

"Buying Magicked Gloves willing to pay 3000 gold pieces!"

The Gaotunheim bank- a wild place where the rich veterans rubbed shoulders with the weak and poor beginners. A place where a player could get rare swag- and lose it just as quickly. This was my favorite place. My name is Jacques Salvidos Mortimos Pyrophiac Sanguineer. Most call me Jack Pyro.

My world is a vast, vast thing, with monsters and riches that have been forgotten possibly centuries before. My parents were adventurers- a rare occupation nowadays. They were exploring places from the beginning of the game when they came across a Granden- a monster so strong that it killed you three times in one hit. They were gone before 2 minutes were out. I was staying in a hospice alone when it happened, and when the rent was due, I got kicked out. But in truth, I prefer it that way. I have never died, I am a high level master thief, and my name is somewhat known through out Gaotunheim. I say somewhat because, while every child in the Dark Territory has heard my name, You would be hard pressed to find anyone who knows about me in Light City. However, most of the People in Fight Town know me. That's because the main place for beginners to practice their strength, attack, and defense is Goblin House-, which is my stomping grounds. Let me explain. Goblin House is one of the few beneficial "glitches" in this world, and we try to make sure that the gods don't find out about it. It is a run-down old mansion that is over run by goblins. Now, that's not so unusual- goblin pockets are common and are usually taken care of by local "prodigies". The unusual thing is that these goblins respawn, which gives the warriors an infinite source of weak to moderate (depending which floor you're on) enemies to pound on.

I realized the financial opportunity to be had, and me and my gang of orphans purchased the land from the local mafia. It belonged to us. Then my gang and me leveled up for the better part of a year, growing stronger each day. Then, after we were tough enough to deal with any local thugs, I had my group go out and start spreading rumors in Fight Town about a beneficial glitch in the city that caused goblins to respawn infinitely inside an abandoned house in Dark Territory.

When the warriors showed up, we acted like we weren't going to share the house with anybody. We let them argue with us awhile, and then we pretended to give in. We told them that if the gave us our pick of any item that dropped from the goblins, all items left behind by the player if he died while battling in the house, and a small fee each time they came in, then they could use it. They conversed with each other for a bit, then said that they would accept the deal, but the entrance fee would have to be negotiated by the two strongest people in each group (typical warriors, always thinking of brawn). However, I was surprised when the negotiator for the warriors began to bargain with quick and sharp wit. We eventually settled on a fee of 15 gold pieces, a nice sum for Dark Territory economy and a small amount for Fight Town. So, Goblin House was born. However, we asked to keep the knowledge of it on the down low- Magistrates revel in plugging up holes like this, especially beneficial ones.

So, beginners and veterans alike come to the house, and my small gang actually became something of a small business. People actually began looking for jobs at the house. These people, I could tell, weren't fighters or entrepreneurs; they just wanted to feed their families. I was hesitant at first- I didn't want my gang to _become_ a small business. But I eventually realized that I needed people to collect the fees. So, I hired a couple, trained them up, and gave them each 50 gp a day. I was turning quite a profit for about 2 years then the trouble started in the form of Aldren Swordsun.

Ch. 1 Tenure, Twoyear.

_GameDate 0917_

_Location: Gaotunheim, Former Residence of _**censore**d_, Dark Territory (Aka "Goblin House")_

"Hello, sir, how may I help you?"

Aldren Swordsun was surprised. He hadn't expected to see anyone here, let alone this young girl. Even more, a game-orphan. "Do not fear, I am here to rid this house of the goblin infestation." He knew he could, too. He had already cleared several other houses of goblins.

The girl was silent for a moment, just stared at him with disbelief. Aldren began so shift uncomfortably. He knew his splendid armor was more brilliant than this miserable street orphan had probably seen in her entire life, but that was no excuse to stare so. He was just about to say something when a large goblin turned the corner. It was around 7' 8", with huge slobbering fangs and two oversize meat cleavers in its hands. "Get behind me, I'll take care of him!"

The girl snorted in contempt, then disappeared. Aldren looked around madly for a few seconds, but a horrendous bellow from the goblin drew his attention back to it. The girl was on top of the goblins head.

_But… that was either teleportation or Extreme Speed, neither of which is possible without a Cloak of Deas!_

He watched as the girl pulled a very sharp and nasty looking dagger from the top of the monster's cranium. The goblin fell to the floor and vanished, leaving behind bones and a pile of coins, which the girl immediately pocketed. "I don't need your help, jack and unless you tell me who you are and what you've heard about this place, you'll be joining the goblin pretty soon."

Astonished at her impropriety, Aldren, in hindsight, could have been a little better in his word choice. "_I_ am Aldren Swordsun, Son of Nevermore the Great Mage, and champion of the Glove and Gauntlet school of the sword, cretin! Are you so foolish as to think _you _could defeat _me?_"

"Not so foolish as you are, moron, for speaking so to one of my gang."

Aldren whirled around. Standing about 4 yards away from him was a figure so mismatched that Aldren had to stop thinking about what was going on just to study him. He was an interesting figure, around 15 winters, wrapped in a cloak that must have been incredible when first made. Now, it was somewhat earth color, with only faded lines and darker sections to show it had been anything but Poorman's fabric at one point. The hood was pulled up, so the person's eyes were shrouded in darkness. His other clothes were the same as any other street rats, and he wasn't carrying any visible weapons, which made Aldren feel better. He was well versed in protective spells, and even a full-grown mage sweated to beat him in a fight. That wasn't the mismatched part.

The mismatched part was the air about him. It was almost regal in a way, but something about it made him start to tremble a bit. Then he stopped it. This was a mere game orphan. If he was a mage, he wasn't a higher level than hedgemage, and they had trouble healing bruises. Fighting was a death wish for them. "Gang? You expect me to roll over like a beaten cur just because you're a gang leader?" he gave a laugh that was more cherry than he actually felt "I have defeated many of your kind with little more than a wave of my hand."

The figure smiled, and Aldren shivered when he realized that the figure had very pronounced canines. A small fact, stored dutifully along with other useful tidbits spoke up. Some hegdemages could transform into animals. He immediately found the proper spells that were the most effective against beast-mages. "You're wrong, Mr. Swordsun. You've never even encountered one of my kind. I can tell that because you haven't died once yet. And besides," the figure smiled evilly, "I'm the only one of my kind"

Aldren was growing more confident by the minute. "Like I've never heard that before. Ha! You Hegdemages are all alike, thinking you're something new. I, Aldren Swordsun, will put you in your place!"

ΔΘΞΘΔ ΨψΨ〖〗

Ж

Inwardly, I sighed. They never listened. I mentally debated on whether or not to kill him. Better not to, for secrecy's sake. Better yet to knock him out and then place a binding spell on him, to keep him away from here. But first he would have to wipe his memory, or change it so that Roma did the fighting. She _would_ have killed him; being sold to a brothel by your own parents did not give one a very positive view of men. Or humanity, for that matter. But enough reminiscing. Time to get down to business.

ΔΘΞΘΔ ΨψΨ〖〗

Ж

"Alright, _cuntose, _you want to fight? I challenge you to a duel to be enacted right now, with Roma of the Vanishing Egde as witness. Will you agree?"

Aldren paled slightly. This was serious. The figure was enacting a fill on blood duel. People wound up as slaves by agreeing to stupid stuff like this. But his honor had been insulted, and it would be avenged. "I do." And charged at the figure. Now, Aldren was well book learned. He had some real experience. But what his teachers hadn't told him about the Dark Territory was this: you have to have the observation skills of a spy. And, for all his strength, Aldren was not an observant man. So, he hadn't noticed that the girl – Roma?- had seemingly pulled a blade out of thin air.

And she wasn't wearing an ancient Cloak of Twilight, either.


	2. Page 2

ΔΘΞΘΔ ΨψΨ〖〗

Ж

Aldren was surprised. When they met, the figure was holding a nasty looking blade that had glowing depictions going down the flats. Depictions that Aldren would rather have not seen. The figure looked at him, eyes still clad in shadow- must be a property of the cloak, Aldren realized. It's a magic cloak. The figure then jumped in the air, bringing the blade down almost faster than his eyes could follow. It was by sheer instinct and training that Aldren brought his blade to bear in time. The power behind the blade startled him. The figure then vanished, reappearing far down the entrance corridor. It was then Aldren noticed the crown that had gathered. He saw people he knew lived in Fight Town watching him fight, as well as many people who's occupations Aldren did not want to venture a guess at. "Focus, dimwit!" called one of the warriors. Aldren looked back at the figure. It had its hands above its head and was chanting something in a deep, low and raspy voice that Aldren knew from experience was a master mages casting voice. Aldren did not stop to wonder how a supposed hegdemage had so much power. He immediately threw up the strongest barrier he had. He had actually gone on a quest to get it, traveling high up in the mountains where he had worked for a head-monk for four months just to prove he was ready to learn it. It combined magical and physical protection and he had seen some mages pale at the sight of it.

In the way of helping him win the battle, it did nothing.

ΔΘΞΘΔ ΨψΨ〖〗

Ж

I continued chanting, calling forth a hex that would knock him unconscious. I opened my eye to make sure he wasn't charging. He wasn't but he had thrown up an impressive barrier. It was one that I didn't know of, so I set the hex spell aside- I could now activate it at my pleasure. I now started working on a spell that would not only disable it, but also give me the knowledge of its workings. I chanted in my Tone Voice, the one every mage uses to cast spells, letting my will focus the magic to what I wanted from it.

"_**A sa kay nas sempa rudla mechk!"**_

"_**Mensa da nampa lu nak."**_

"_**Alentay, Alentay."**_

I trust my hands out and felt the magic draining unwanted emotions from me to increase the power of the spell.

"_**KAZECT!"**_

My spell rumbled down the hallway at astonishing speed, taking the form of a many-legged octopus as it did.

ΔΘΞΘΔ ΨψΨ〖〗

Ж

Aldren watched the spell charge down the hall at him. Every molecule of his body told him to run, but he knew that the only thing that would possibly stop the spell was his barrier.

Isn't it amazing how many times a person can be wrong in so short a period? In fact, if he had let go of the barrier, the spell would have passed through him harmlessly. It was a spell that hurt other spells- physical things weren't affected by it. His barrier on the other hand…

The Spell hit his barrier and instead of bouncing off or disintegrating, it latched on. The dark tentacles caressed the barrier, investigating every part of it. Aldren tried to release the magic, but he found that the spell the figure had cast kept him from doing so.

Who in Shenthia's name was this person?!

Suddenly, the spell had apparently found what it wanted, because it made an odd sound somewhere between the shriek of twisting metal and a Tiger's purr and thrust one of it's tentacles through his barrier and severed his connection to it. It then flew back to its caster and disappeared inside the figure's chest. Suddenly Aldren understood what that spell had been. "You two-faced son of a pig! You stole my spell! If we were in Light City, You'd be arrested for that!"

Aldren heard chuckling all around. The spectators were laughing! At _him_!

Even the figure chuckled, a cold sound. "You should have thought about that before you ventured into Dark Territory. People here do what they can to survive, and if that means taking something of someone else's, then so be it. "_**Shungta**_!" the figure thrust its arm out. Aldren was thrust against the wall at his back so hard he saw stars. The figure reached out to it's left and pulled out a silver ball from nothingness. It walked over to where he had slid down to the floor and kneeled, looking him in the eye. "Now be quiet," it said, "and enter the abyss."

Then the spell flooded over him and he was only too happy to comply.

ΔΘΞΘΔ ΨψΨ〖〗

Ж

The crowd cheered as I straightened up, and I pulled back my hood. The Cloak of Sidhe is an ancient weapon, being one of the first behemoths weapons, many years ago. I first heard about it in a Folklore Teller's story. Apparently, a true master thief, the likes of which have never been seen since, could take anything from anyone, including behemoths. The Cloak transforms depending on its owner's wishes, and for me that was to be akin to a shadow. It transformed into a Cloak of Twilight for me, also changing appearance so that it looked pretty much like a ragged sheet. However, its actual form is breathtaking. Blood red and deep, deep black come together to form a cloak that looks as deadly as it really is. But, that's conspicuous. All those thieves that make their enchanted armor and weapons obviously enchanted are fools. Better to let them underestimate you.

But I dally.

Roma came up to me, and I looked at her in a reproaching manner. "Roma, you know better than to show off in front of _mudra_ like him," I said, using the Shypsi word for a conceited noble.

"I am sorry _Kinshay_, but you know I can't stand _mudra_."

And I did too; one had owned her brothel. Had. "That was fantastic, Jack!" yelled someone from above.

I looked up at the crowd. The entrance to Goblin house consisted of a long corridor ending in a large foyer. The entire house was made of stone, and as such, was capable of withstanding powerful attacks. The foyer was lined with a balcony that ran around the length of the room, and the place had been used many times as an arena. People watched from the balcony, placing bets and commenting on moves. "Which way'd the betting go?" I yelled back up.

"Do you really need to ask?" yelled someone else,

"The fop was dead th' minute 'e insulted Roma, I'd say." Yelled another.

"Thanks, guys! Now, if you'll excuse us, we need to get rid of him!" I waited until the crowd had cleared before turning to Roma,

"I know why you lost your temper, Roma, I really do, and I sympathize, but this is gonna take quite a bit of doing to get this guy to not say anything about this place. You have to stop going off like this. Those days are over. You're in my gang now, and I will die before I let them take you back, you got it?"

Roma nodded her head.

"Good, now, get some of the gang together, we need to get this guy into Light City _tonight_"

ΔΘΞΘΔ ΨψΨ〖〗

Ж

Kepple smiled. Of all the areas of Gaotunheim, he enjoyed Light City the best. It was beautiful. Golden light shone from streetlamps and reflected off of white marble building before shining onto the puddles in the cobbled street. He often imagined living here, and his _Král_ had promised to do his best to get him a house here. And he was too. Sanguineer had recently taken him to look at possible property. He had told him the price of each one, and what Keppler could do in order to pay him back for the gold.

This job would be the last payment. Then he could move in, and say goodbye to the dark life he lead now. A cart rumbled by, shaking him from his musings. He had to get this guy to the back of a suitable bar before he was spotted. Positioning the guy so that he was supporting him in a way that indicated the guy was drunk he walked across the open street, people glancing his way then shaking their heads in amusement. It took a half the night, stopping for breaks and hiding, before he reached the proper place. Placing him in a pile of trash, he took a bottle full of rum from his pocket. First he made the guy drink some, then he placed it in his hand and left.

A new life lay ahead of him.

ΔΘΞΘΔ ΨψΨ〖〗

Ж

**"**Hey! You!" yelled someone.

Aldren moaned. His head hurt like nothing else and his nose wrinkled at the truly atrocious smell that invaded it. He opened his eyes, and found himself in a back alley, looking at an old man. "You okay?" asked the man.

"Where am I?" he asked.

"Behind Katy's." the man answered, "You musta had one hell of a night, kid!"

"But I didn't go to a bar last night! I went to Dark Territory, and this girl killed a goblin single handedly, and there was this kid, he almost killed me! He had this spell that…that…"

The old man was looking at him skeptically. "Kid, you musta been on more than Grenadier last night." He laughed.

"I'm not a kid", mumbled Aldren, but his confusion showed in his voice. Had he gone to a bar? Or had he gone to Dark Territory? He sat up, and something tinkled against the ground. Looking down, he saw a Grenadier bottle had fallen out of his hand. He smelled his breath, and then cringed at the telltale smell of booze.

"Then again, by the way you smell, I'd guess you just dreamed it up, now come on now, let me give ya a ride home."

Aldren stood up shakily, and then spotted his sword lying in the trash. Wobbling over to the refuse, he rescued his sword. Standing back up, he noticed lightness at his waist. Gasping, he looked down. His coin-bag was gone! "Looks like you had too good of a time, kid." chuckled the old man, "Now, let's go, I've got to get home to the missus."

ΔΘΞΘΔ ΨψΨ〖〗

Ж

_Aldren walked slowly to his house. The old man had given him a ride to his part of Light City before turning around and heading back to his home and hearth. He walked sluggishly, head down. Ha! Some "prodigy" he was! Went to a bar instead of clearing out a goblin infestation. Suddenly, a group of assassins burst out from an alley. Aldren was down before he could even put up a fight. "Well, well, Mr. Swordsun." Said a cold, cold voice. Aldren looked up to see a well-dressed man emerging from the fleeing shadows that huddled against the sun's morning rays._

_The man kneeled down, and for a second time he was looking into a pair of eyes that belonged to a person who wanted to do him harm. "I heard you had quite a night." The man said._

_Aldren struggled against his captors. The man leaned in closer. _

_"Let's talk about it."_

ΔΘΞΘΔ

_Kepple leaned back, enjoying his new home. He had a nice place. It was high up it one of the towers in the city, had a wonderful view off Dark territory, and had a generally nice feel about it. Kepple arose from his armchair, situated nicely next to the fire, and wandered over to the window, enjoying the last rays of daylight. Without warning, he was stunned by a hex. He fell upon the floor; suddenly enjoy the grains of wood in his flooring. Someone rolled him over. His attackers were Imperial Mages, even now on the ready to cast a death curse should he prove to be difficult to handle. A well-dressed man walked through his door, blasted off its hinges by the mages attack. His gaze was colder than stone, and twice as hard. The man walked over to him. "Miklos Kepple, so nice to finally meet you. You and me are going to have a nice long chat about a friend of yours, and this 'goblin house' of his"_

_Kepple felt fear dripping like glacial ice dropping like an anvil into his chest, and then he knew no more._


End file.
